


Amarulence

by servantofclio



Series: Aderyn Hawke [9]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-02-04
Packaged: 2019-03-13 14:45:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13572777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: Amarulence: bitterness, spiteThe Carta assassins and the Grey Warden prison were bad enough, but Carver’s baleful glances in Fenris’s direction were what was really working  Aderyn Hawke’s last nerve.





	Amarulence

**_Amarulence:_ ** _bitterness, spite_

The Carta assassins and the Grey Warden prison were bad enough, but Carver’s baleful glances in Fenris’s direction were what was really working  Aderyn Hawke’s last nerve. She could cope with unsettling magics and mayhem so much more easily if her companions could just get along.

She took the opportunity, therefore, while Fenris and Varric were exploring the other end of the room, to grab Carver by the arm and haul him off for a private word.

He stumbled when she seized his arm and staggered a few steps, with a half-swallowed grunt of protest. She must have caught him by surprise. She’d never have managed to haul his armored bulk that far otherwise.

“What?” Carver demanded.

“What is your problem with Fenris?” Aderyn asked.

Carver knew what she meant at once. He scowled. “ _My_ problem? Why is he even here, sister?”

“Because I asked him to come?”

Carver glared down at her. “And that’s what I don’t understand. How do you still associate with someone who cast you off like an old shirt?”

Aderyn took a deep breath, willing Andraste to grant her patience. “Let it go, Carver. It’s none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? I’m your brother.”

“And I can handle my own affairs,” Aderyn snapped, still keeping her voice low. “Leave him alone.”

“He _left_ you,” Carver growled.

“ _So did you_ ,” Aderyn hissed, a rare fit of temper boiling up her tongue.

Carver’s face went slack as he stared at her, shocked. For once, she hadn’t the heart to apologize immediately and smooth things over. “You wanted something of your own, fine, I understand that, but you never even breathed a word of it to me, and you walked out and left me alone with Mother and Gamlen, and you went to the _templars_ , of all things, Carver. So don’t stand there so self-righteous.”

The words spilled out of her like a lanced boil, and she stood, breathing hard.

Carver said, “I thought,” and stopped, looking far younger than he ought.

Aderyn waited, and when it seemed clear he wouldn’t finish the statement on his own, she sighed and said, “You thought what?”

“I thought I might… help. The mages, or even… I thought I could help cover for you.” He rubbed the back of his head, making his hair stick up. “I didn’t know you were going to go and kill the Arishok.”

“Neither did I.” Aderyn sighed, spent. Her ire faded, come and gone like a summer storm, and all that was left was the oppressive atmosphere of the prison plucking at her nerves. “Fenris and I, we’ve settled all that between us.”

“I didn’t know,” Carver muttered.

“You never asked,” she pointed out, with the last dregs of her pique. They were both bad at letters; his were scattered and brief, her own were lengthier, but she always skated around the truly personal. Not least because she wouldn’t put it past Meredith to read their correspondence. “Just… try to get along? We have enough to deal with down here.”

Carver scowled again, but nodded, reluctantly, and fell in beside her as she returned to the others.


End file.
